Pizza Boys, Anxiety, and Purple Spandex
by LadyDivine91
Summary: Blaine is helping Kurt by playing model for a rather interesting outfit that reveals more than his figure. Klaine. Kurt H. Blaine A.


**Yes, I write a lot about body issues and there may be some overlap of themes, but I don't think we could ever get enough of two people in love supporting one another. P. S. This is also a re-write. Warning for angst, anxiety, and body issues.**

Kurt taps his foot, compulsively glancing at the face of his watch and huffing at the amount of time that has gone by – time that he _needs_ that he can't get back.

"You _will_ be finished getting dressed sometime today, right?" Kurt grumbles through the curtain to the changing room. "I need to have that suit finished by the morning!"

Kurt doesn't get an answer, but he hears his boyfriend shuffle behind the curtain, so he bends over to look beneath the hanging cloth barrier. He can see Blaine's bare feet stepping left and right at odd intervals on the wood floor, a hint of purple fabric clinging to his leg just above the ankle.

"Please, don't rush me," Blaine says. "Although, you know, if you wanted me to get dressed faster, you could have given me instructions … or a schematic. _Or_ you could come in here and help me." Blaine peeks out from behind the curtain and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Yeah, because we're not already cutting it close timewise. If I get in there, I have a feeling that outfit's going to come off."

Blaine growls in frustration and returns to his struggling while Kurt covers his mouth with his hand, stifling a chuckle. He doesn't want to encourage Blaine, especially since his dallying is putting Kurt almost an hour behind schedule.

"Seriously, Blaine. I'm cutting this down to the wire. I promised Sergio he'd have this for his audition in the morning, and he's paying me double to rush, so could you _please_ …"

"Alright, alright." Blaine sighs, and for a second, Kurt could have sworn he sounded nervous. "Is … is anyone else out there?"

"Why does that matter?" Kurt doesn't mean to snap, but he's losing patience. He wants to get this done as soon as possible so he can get home, climb under the covers with Blaine, and spend the rest of the evening having sex and watching reality TV.

"Just …" Another long sigh. "Please?"

"Okay, okay. Hold on one minute." Kurt closes and locks the door to the costume shop. "You're good."

Blaine steps hesitantly out from behind the curtain, but Kurt doesn't have time to notice. He's on Blaine in an instant, pulling at the fabric, lifting Blaine's arms to check for bunching, tugging on the seams, checking for puckering and gaps.

"So, is this the future of haute couture?" Blaine asks, referring to the unitard hugging his body, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Not exactly," Kurt says offhandedly. "Well, I guess, yes, if you're a ballet dancer. Now stop fidgeting. Blaine, stop tugging. Blaine … _Blaine_!"

Kurt, checking the hem around Blaine's ankles, stands to confront his boyfriend, but Blaine turns away from Kurt's gaze, blushing furiously.

Kurt's brow knits as he appraises his boyfriend's sudden bashfulness.

"Blaine? Are you ... embarrassed?"

"No," he replies, side-eyeing Kurt through the mirror in front of him.

Kurt bites his lip thoughtfully as he watches Blaine, his boyfriend's eyes glued to a spot on the wall. Kurt knows that look on Blaine's face, the one that says he doesn't want to talk about this. But this reaction from his usually body positivity and confident boyfriend is so alien to Kurt. He needs to find a way to get him to open up about it.

"Well, good," Kurt says brightly, "because we need to walk down to the practice studio and find Sergio so he can approve this piece."

Blaine's head snaps up, his face pale, panic brewing in his eyes.

"No—Kurt … but you said …"

Kurt feels like a heel teasing Blaine, but he didn't imagine in a million years that his little taunt would earn _that_ dramatic a reaction.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says, running soothing hands down Blaine's arms. "I didn't mean it. We don't have to go anywhere. I was just joking."

Blaine breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his eyes to his feet to avoid Kurt's grin. Of course, if he had looked, all he would have seen on Kurt's face is a look of genuine concern for his boyfriend, who was trembling at the thought of walking three doors down in a purple Spandex leotard.

"Would you like to explain this to me?" Kurt asks, trying to catch Blaine's downcast eyes.

"Explain what?" Blaine mumbles, meeting Kurt's gaze and then darting away.

"Why does this bother you?"

Blaine crosses his arms over his chest. "I just …" Blaine lifts his head, but looks at the ceiling instead of at Kurt. "I feel so _exposed_ in this thing."

There's a moment when Kurt doesn't know if he heard his boyfriend right. Looking in Blaine's eyes, Kurt realizes he has, and he has to laugh. He doesn't want to. He _really_ doesn't want to, but he can't help himself.

" _You_? The man who answers the door for the pizza delivery boy dressed in his boxer shorts?"

"That's different," Blaine argues, scoffing at Kurt's amusement.

"That's almost naked!"

" _Almost naked_ is different than this!" Blaine pinches at the fabric and then releases it, watching it snap back into place. "This is like a sparkly purple flag showing every flaw …"

Kurt casts a glance down his boyfriend's body, a look of exaggerated disbelief on his face.

"What flaws? Where are these flaws of which you speak of?"

"They're there," Blaine persists. "Shocking, I know. Blaine Anderson has flaws."

"Well _I_ don't see them."

"Believe me. I have them."

Kurt sobers up at the defeat in Blaine's voice. He looks again at his boyfriend, who isn't smiling, isn't joking, but staring uncomfortably over Kurt's head, grinding his teeth, and sighs.

"Oh, Blaine …" Kurt moves behind Blaine and turns him toward the mirror. "Do you know what _I_ see when I look at you in this outfit?"

Blaine doesn't answer, huffing under his breath.

"I see the body that I love."

Kurt bends low to caress Blaine's calf with the palm of his right hand.

"I see your muscular legs …" Kurt runs his fingertips up the side seam of the Spandex. "I see every contour of your amazing thighs …" His fingers travel around the front of Blaine's legs, touching a little firmer, more like a massage. Kurt can see Blaine sneaking a peek at his fingers through the mirror. He clears his throat when Kurt notices, and looks away again. Kurt smiles and shakes his head. "I see these sculpted hips," Kurt continues, grabbing Blaine roughly, pleased when he hears Blaine gasp. "And these incredible abs …" Kurt traces along the visible lines of Blaine's six-pack through the tight fabric. Then he wraps his arms around Blaine's chest and hooks his chin over his shoulder, pressing his chest against his boyfriend's back and joining them together. "And I bet you haven't seen your ass in this ..." Kurt's voice barely rises above a whimper "… but it looks absolutely _delicious_."

Kurt knows he's winning when he sees Blaine turning to look at his reflection in the mirror, starting from the floor and moving up over the dips and curves of his own body until he reaches Kurt's hungry blue eyes. His own eyes open wide, eyebrows raised, but the expression on his face still looks unsure.

"Come on, Blaine," Kurt coos. "Can't you think of one nice thing to say about yourself in this outfit?"

Blaine tilts his head back and forth, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"This leotard makes my dick look _huge_."

Kurt snickers, kissing his boyfriend's shoulder.

"That's because your dick _is_ huge," Kurt agrees, looping his arms around Blaine's neck. "Come on. Let's get you out of this and go home."

"Or, we can bring it home with us," Blaine purrs, turning in Kurt's arms.

"Yeah?" Kurt sinks against him, risking getting stuck with a few pins since he likes where this conversation is headed.

"I can put it on …" Blaine kisses Kurt gently.

"A-ha …" Kurt chases Blaine's lips as he speaks, wanting more, forgetting for a moment that they're locked in the costume shop of NYADA and not at home in their apartment.

"And then …" Blaine teases, moving out of Kurt's reach, "I can order a pizza, and wear this to answer the door."

Blaine laughs when Kurt smacks him on the arm.

"No way," Kurt says, pushing Blaine back behind the curtain. "Antonio's already in love with you. If he sees you in this, he'll never leave us alone."

"That might mean free pizza!" Blaine quips.

"Yeah," Kurt murmurs, "or a dead delivery boy." Kurt sneaks one last peek at his boyfriend in Spandex and licks his lips before he closes the curtain completely.


End file.
